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101 Words: Sunday Morning

Waking up horny on Sunday morning.
Stretching out into our bed,
“You’re still here? Thank God,” I said.

A sigh, a groan a sexy poke,
My fingers moving as you woke.

Sunday mornings, they are the best,
Stay in bed - but not to rest,

Exploring you: I’m heading south,
Taking you into my mouth.

A suck, a lick that’s all you need,
My mouth soon filling with your seed.

Another suck, and your cock grew,
A hunger, a desire to mate with you.

Guiding you into my heat,
My hand a sheath around your meat.

Sunday morning, a sexual thirst,
Just so you know, I came first.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2015 Abigail Thornton. All Rights Reserved.

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